


Heartlines AU

by AwesomeEyeroll



Series: Heartlines [1]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2018-10-16 07:40:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10566693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwesomeEyeroll/pseuds/AwesomeEyeroll
Summary: Outlander AU series. Jamie and Claire meet in a night club in 21st Century Glasgow.





	1. Whiskey on a Pink Dress

“I am too old for this”  
This thought had run through his head about a hundred times since they’d arrived at the club and it didn’t get any less true the more he thought it. He hated nightclubs. He hadn’t been a huge fan of them in his teens and twenties but at least he’d seen the point of them then. Drinks with your mates, a bit of bad dancing, flirting with some girls. But he was in his late thirties now and here he was again. His mates had insisted that he needed to have a ‘proper night out’. 

“You’ll no meet any lassies down the local, Jamie lad” had been his cousin Rupert’s rationale.

“Ya’ll have been divorced now for nearly three years, and no a sniff of a woman around you since then. It's no natural” had been his friend Angus’ contribution. Eventually, the sheer grind of trying to deflect them from their plans, as they conscripted an ever increasing circle of Jamie’s friends and family into the mission, had worn him down. A phone call from his sister Jenny, had been the final assault.

“Come on now, brother. You can’t be living your life all alone. You’re only 38, there’s still time for a relationship, a family. I know you want these things. You’ve always wanted them. Sure, you’ll never admit it, but we both know it’s the only reason you married Geneva in the first place. You’d been together for years and you felt like it was what you should be doing. She was just the wrong woman to be doing it with.”

“You could have said this to me at the time” came his sullen reply. There was nothing like a mild rebuke from his big sister to bring out the bolshy teenager in him.

“Aye” was the measured response, “I could have. But you’d no have thanked me and you’d even less have listened to me. You’re a grown man and your mistakes are your own to make. My job is to be here for ya when you’ve made them.”

Slightly shamed by this exchange and by his sister’s clear concern for the near monk like existence he had lived since his divorce, after only two years of marriage, he had text Rupert and told him to make some plans for the following Saturday.

And now here he was. In hell. Assuming of course hell played terrible electronic dance music, served watery, slightly warm lager and was inhabited by drunk twentysomethings in varying states of inebriation. Several women had thrown some very hot looks in his direction and two had approached him when he went to the bar and later as he weaved his way through the masses towards the washroom. But they just weren’t of interest to him. The were lovely girls, no doubt, fresh faced and youthful, beautiful for sure. But they did nothing for him. He didn’t know what he was looking for in a woman, or if indeed he was looking for anything at all, but he simply knew that they were not it.

He was on yet another foray to the bar. He’d volunteered to go simply to get away from the constant pressure of his friends urging him to talk to this woman and that. To buy that one a drink, the being nudged in the ribs every five minutes as Rupert, Angus and even the usually more reticent Murtagh and Willy tried to persuade him to make his move.He checked his watch wondering if it was late enough for him to make his excuses and leave. 11.30. He rolled his eyes and contemplating an escape attempt. He wondered if the windows of the bathroom were adequate to accommodate his massive frame. As he looked up from his watch his made contact with something. Someone.  
“Oh sorry” he said automatically before looking to see who he had made contact with. As slender brunette stood in front of him, dabbing what appeared to be whiskey from the front of her pink dress with a napkin.  
“Oh lass, I am sorry” he repeated with more meaning this time. The woman looked up from her ministrations and smiled at him with humour in her eyes.  
“No harm done, the whiskey they serve in this place is only fit for spilling anyhow”

He got a proper look at her then. She was beautiful. She had clouds of curly dark hair that were cascading arounding her face and shoulders and her eyes. He couldn’t quite make out their colour under the neon lights of the club but there was something about them that spoke to him. A warmth, a humour and something else too. Something that made his stomach flip over slightly as he looked at her.

“Are you ok?” she asked him and he realised he had been staring. Possibly open mouthed. He visibly pulled himself together and she laughed.

“My name is Claire” she smiled at him and held out her hand.  
“Jamie” he took her hand. It was warm and soft and he very much regretted having to release it.

“So what brings you here” He cringed inwardly as he spoke. Was that the best he could come up with? It was only one rung up from “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”  
She hadn’t seemed to notice the cheesy line though.

“Oh, it’s Mary’s birthday. One of my friends from work. She’s only 24, hence the choice of venue” She indicated the club with a wave of her arm.

“And you? Are you a regular here at ‘Altered Images, Glasgow’s premier night spot!’?” She made heavy air quotes with her fingers as she made the last statement, mocking the club’s tagline and the irony contained within it.

“Ah, err, no” He stuttered a bit. How was he going to explain why he was here? “Umm, lads night out you know. Change of scene from the local”

Claire raised her brows at him skeptically, whilst clearly trying to rein in a laugh. 

“Can I buy you another drink? Since I’m the reason yer wearing that one?”

She laughed. “Honestly, I think you might have done me a favour. From the smell of it I might have gone blind had I actually drunk it.”

There was a pause.

“Well anyway, I best get back to my friends. I plan on making good my escape at the earliest opportunity and the only way I’m going to be allowed to do that is if I throw some serious shapes on that dance floor before hand” She vogued a little to illustrate her point and they both laughed. A curl tumbled forward and flopped over her eye. Unthinkingly, Jamie reached forward and tucked it gently behind her ear. Her eyes widened and he pulled back as if he’s been slapped.

“Oh God, Claire. I’m so sorry. I shouldna be touching you like that. You dinna know me. I don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry…”  
She cut off his apologies my reaching forward and very gently running a finger down the side of his cheek. He felt like all air had been sucked out of the room at the feeling of her hand on his skin. He tried to make out her expression, but the flashing lights made it impossible to 

“There,” she said with a slight shrug. “I guess now we’re even. And I probably won’t have karate chop you in the throat for being forward.”

The looked at each other for a moment before she reached down and began rummaging in her bag. Retrieving something, she grabbed his arm and pushing up the sleeve of his shirt turned her wrist towards him. Before he fully realised what was happening she had written a telephone number, hers he supposed, on the inside of his wrist. There was something so intimate about that it sent a small shiver down his spine.

“Why don’t you call me sometime? It was lovely to meet you Jamie”  
And with that she was gone, pushing her way through the throngs of Saturday night revellers in the direction of the dance floor. He stood staring after her for a moment. 

Turning he headed back towards where he’d left the lads. As he approached he discovered the booth was now not only filled with his friends but also a gang of about 6 women. Veering away at the last moment, he turned towards the entrance, opening the uber app on his phone as he went. Just before he reached the door he turned back, scanning the dance floor for a glimpse of her before he left. And there she was. Arms waving, hair wild, laughing and singing along to the song. She was so lovely. Like a force of nature He glanced down at his wrist where she had written her number. Maybe this night out hadn’t been such a terrible idea after all.


	2. Breathing in the Half Light

Jamie lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. His ears rang from the noise of the club earlier. God. it had been an awful place. But there in the midst of his own personal room 101, he had met her. Claire. He held up his arm and he could make out the numbers on his wrist in the dim light. As soon as he had gotten home he had added it to his phone, written it on a piece of paper and stuck it to his fridge, written it into his day diary and added it to the ‘Useful numbers’ list he kept by the landline. He couldn’t bring himself to wash it off of his wrist though.  
He turned over in bed. He wanted to call her, to message her. Connect with her somehow. 

He turned again letting out a sigh. He was usually so rational. So logical. He tried to apply that now. “You’re just smitten because you’re so long out of the game. When was the last time you thought about courting a woman?” And that was true. He thought about Geneva. He’d met her when he was 25 and her sister Isobel was dating his friend John. They were running with the same crowd and she was fun and attractive. What had started as a fling based on physical attraction and mutual convenience had turned into a relationship as their shared network expanded and their lives became increasingly intertwined. If he was being honest, things probably would have run their course had he not been sent to Chicago for work. John and Isobel split up and John moved to England. Other members of their social circle got married, got mortgages, had kids. The network that had brought and kept them together slowly unravelled. From Chicago he was sent to Sydney, Dubai and then Bogota. He and Geneva stayed together but their relationship consisted of a few days here, a fortnight’s holiday there. She expressed no interest in joining him on his travels and it never even occurred to him to ask her. Six years later he resigned from his job in order to take over the running of the family business. He’d had big plans for Lallybroch, both as a working farm and as a commercial venture. He returned to Scotland and to Geneva. She hinted heavily that she was nearly 30, that he was 33 and maybe they should think of settling down. Jamie being the dutiful and loyal man he was had duly proposed. Given the ease in which Geneva has arranged the wedding with a date only six months away, it was clear she had been thinking on this for a while. They married with great ado in Inverness, their reception held in an impossibly plush marquee. For once the Scottish weather cooperated. Such was the force of Geneva’s will.

Alas, it became apparent very quickly that their relationship had only survived the years through distance. Once thrown into each other’s company on a regular and continuous basis, the rot set in quickly. Jamie was a constant source of disappointment to her. After six months he’d moved out. Within 9 months he’d filed for divorce, when it became clear there was no relationship to attempt to salvage and quite likely never really had been.. Geneva had not taken it well and delayed at every opportunity. But with no shared assets there was only so long could stall things. Their final decree was made official two days after what would have been their second wedding anniversary. 

He sat up in bed. For a long time he’d felt guilty about Geneva. Guilty he had let her down, guilty that he had, when he was honest with himself, never really loved her. He’d thought he was doing the right thing, but he’d probably made things worse. He’d accepted his lack of a relationship in the years since as his atonement for the mistakes he had made, for his personal failure to be able to give Geneva what she had wanted from him. Geneva had moved on. She was involved with a prominent property developer who drove a porsche and treated her like a queen. She still rang him though, usually when she was drunk. It always ended in her yelling at him about the years he’s stolen from her.

He picked up his phone. 2:34am. Should be text? Should he wait for morning? Was he being too keen? Truth be told he had forgotten what it truly meant to want a woman. He’d been with Geneva for years and yet he’d never truly wanted her. Fancied her, yes. Liked her even, but this feeling he had now, for this strange woman that he’d spoken to for only a handful of minutes stirred him more than he had ever known.

He opened iMessages.  
“Hi. Jamie here. From the club”

He deleted it. Too sad and needy.  
“Hi, hope you were able to make your escape. I was forced to go out of the window and shimmy down the drain pipe. Any chance I could replace that whiskey I spilt all over you sometime? I promise I’ll buy you the good stuff!”

He took a deep breath and pressed send. He was shocked when his phone lit up only minutes later.   
“Was forced to change identity and enter witness protection but escape plan successful. Operative escaped with only moderate loss of dignity”

He laughed out loud. It sounded strange in his empty apa. His phone flashed again.

“Operation whiskey is a go. How about tomorrow? 7pm, Taps near the hospital?”

He wasted no time in replying.

“Is affirmative. Rendezvous is set”.

He placed his phone down on the side table and lay on his back. He started at the ceiling and thought about her face. Tomorrow he would find out what colour her eyes were.


	3. Walking in the Deep Blue Night

He arrived outside Taps for the third time and checked his watch. 6.45. He’d been round the block three times and it was still far too early. Should he go in and wait? Or should he wait outside? Or should he walk around a while longer to avoid looking too over eager?

“Jesus, Jamie. Getting a bloody grip on yerself man. She’s only a woman”

But what a woman. He hadn’t been able to get the image of her out of his head. He’d spent the whole day languishing around his apartment like a lovesick teenager, thinking about her. The soft curl of her hair on her shoulder. The way she looked at him when she’d run her finger down his cheek. He also fielded several angry calls and text messages from his friends wondering where he’d run off to.

“Ye’re no Cinderella, ye know’ grumbled Rupert “Ya didna need to be running off before the clock struck midnight.”

“Ah, but my work there was done, Rupe. I’d already been swept off my feet” He recounted his meeting with Claire and his plans to see her that evening.

“Ye were cramping our style there anyway.” laughed back Rupert.

“Aye, I can see how 4 married men in their thirties and forties would have been the toast of the club” Despite his big talk, Rupert had been happily married to his childhood sweetheart for 15 years and was as blissfully happy now as he had been the day he married Gina.

Rupert laughed again. “Aye, well. Gina asks are ya coming to dinner on Wednesday, she’ll likely grill you about the lassie but the kids have been asking for their Uncle Jamie.”

“I’ll be there, wouldn’t want to disappoint the bairns. Or Gina.” he added wryly.

He’d then spent an inordinate amount of time picking out clothes and trying to decide if the fact he had his knickers in a knot about going out for a drink with a woman he had spoken to for probably no more than 7 minutes meant he had severe emotional problems. Why was he so uptight? Whilst he’d not exactly been Glasgow’s version of Casanova, he had been on dates in the last few years. There had been the nice dentist that he met in the supermarket and gotten to talking to over a discussion on the merits of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc versus Napier. They’d had dinner a few times. He’d even kissed her, but he felt no desire to pursue her and when she text him to let her know she’d been asked out by someone else, he’d wished her joy and simply never thought of her again. He vaguely realised now that probably hadn’t been her main motivation is revealing that tit bit to him. Then there was F&B journalist he’d met at a craft beer fair when he’d first started diversifying the farm. They’d gone out once she’d spent the entire night talking about her ex, who was a musician before puking in his car on the way home. He’d seen her at a few events since but she’s given him a wide berth. His car still smelt a bit on hot days. 

But this, he knew, was different. He wanted to see her, to be in her company, to breath the same air as her. The thought of hearing her laugh, of maybe being the one who made her laugh… 

After his fourth lap of the block he arrived back outside the bar. 6.55. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. It was quiet, being Sunday night and the bar contained about a dozen people. A small group of men in the corner drinking stout and discussing the different brews, a couple at the bar, and Claire. 

She sat at a table near the window, staring out at the street. There was a book of poetry spine up in front of her and she had glass and bottle in front of her. Her hair was pulled back slightly, but was starting to escape near the front. She wore black jeans and a black shirt.Her pale skin seemed to glow. She was lovelier than he had remembered.

“I promise to try not to spill that one down you” he said with a smile. She looked up at him and he motioned to the drink in front of her. “I’m not saying I won’t, but I promise I’ll try”

She smiled back and stood. There was an awkward moment when neither of them seemed to really know what to do. He wanted to touch her, but a hug seemed too familiar, a handshake too formal. Claire solved the dilemma by putting her hand on his arm.

“It’s lovely to see you, Jamie” she said sincerely and he felt the heat rise in his face slightly.   
“Oh great” he thought, “now I’m blushing” Claire sat, not seeming to notice the colour which had flooded his cheeks. She gestured for him to do the same. “I’ll just get a drink, can I get you another? A whiskey this time?” 

“Oh, no, a little early in proceedings for whiskey yet. I’ll have another of these.” She tipped the bottle towards him. Lady Broch Taurach pale ale. He grinned at her. “You like that do you?” “oh yes, my friend Joe at work introduced me to craft beers and he’s a big fan of a little brewery near Inverness, Lallybroch, I think they’re called. I’ve developed a taste for this one”

He nodded and headed to the bar. Lallybroch microbrewery was the most recent expansion he had made to his family business. Lallybroch had been in his family since forever and was a the main factor in his decision to leave oil and gas and come home to Scotland. He was strangely chuffed that she was drinking his beer, brewed on his farm and although he knew it to be simple coincidence, he could not help but feel the same jolt of serendipitous good fortune that he’d felt when he had, quite literally, bumped into her the night before.

He returned with the drinks and sat down next to her so they could both look out of the window. Its started to rain. Because of course it had. It was Scotland. They chatted aimlessly and easily and Jamie’s nerves dissipated slightly. He was still incredibly aware of her, but she was so unassuming, so funny. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun. She told him about her job at the hospital. She’s a surgeon. He told her about Lallybroch. She picked up the bottle in front of her. “I’m impressed. And who or what, exactly is a Lady Broch Taurach?”

“Well,” he settled in to tell a much loved story. “Lallybroch has been in my family since the eighteenth century. Back then we owned the whole estate, and our family were Lairds. The estate was called Broch Taurach, the Laird and his Lady were named for the estate. We just have the farm now, but it's plenty. The farm itself is a proper working hill sheep farm and we have some highland cattle as well. We have a tourist bit, with a gift shop and a restaurant and the such. And then about 18 months ago I opened the brewery. We sell to quite a few places. ‘The Laird’s bedroom’, which is a stout and the pale ale” he gestured to Claire’s drink “are probably our top sellers. I live in Glasgow most of the time, running the business side of things and my sister and her husband run the farm day to day”

“A brewer, my dream man” she said with a giggle taking a swig. By this point they’d both had more than was probably sensible or wise on a Sunday night and were both finding life and each other hilarious. 

“So how did you end up in Scotland? A wee Sassenach lassie like yer self?” he deliberately thickened his highland accent in the second half of the question and once again felt a warmth in the pit of his stomach at the sheer pleasure of making her laugh.

“Oh, well” her face darkened a bit “Well, it was my husband. Frank.”

“Your, your husband?” he swallowed audibly.

“Oh we’re divorced now. That tends to happen when your wife finds you in bed with your Phd student” She said this flippantly enough, but her jaw was set and her eyes had dulled.

“I’m sorry t’hear that, Claire”

“It’s fine, really, it’s just, well” She gestured vaguely into the air in a manner that conveyed that whilst things might be fine now, at some point in the not very distant past they had been a long way from fine. “It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t just lost the baby” Tears welled in her eyes and he could see her trying to master herself. He reached forward and took her hand. 

“You don’t have to tell me. You don’t owe me anything, but if you want to talk. Well, I’ll do what I can to listen” She gave him a watery half smile at that.

“Thank you, but really. It’s in the past. It was very hard at the time. I had to do a lot to move past it, but I did and I try not to look back.”

She squeezed his hand. 

“I think I might let you buy me that whiskey now”

Several very good whiskeys later he had in turn told her all about Geneva, his terrible relationship history and the real reason for his being in the nightclub on the previous night.

Claire was doubled over with laughter as he reenacted the various conversations he had with people in the run up to the night itself.

“Why everyone seemed so sure I was gonna meet the love of my life in a dodgy Glasgow disco with sticky carpets and one pound shots I’ll never know? They must have really thought I was a hopeless case”

“I’m fairly certain that was why we ended up there as well. Glenna, one of the nurses I work with, has been trying to set me up for the past year. I know that Altered Images is definitely not poor Mary’s scene and from the way Geillie and Glenna were literally trying to throw me in the path of every man that came by, I suspect this was another attempt at finding me ‘a braw laddie’” She did a truly awful Scottish accent and they both laughed again.

“Ya know what, Claire?” he asked as he regained his composure, “I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as much as I have tonight, with you” Her colour heightened slightly at the compliment and she looked him in the eye.

Her eyes are the same colour as the whiskey he noted abstractly. Warm and golden, and so deep and rich you could lose yourself in them. 

The moment was broken by the bar man coming over and asking them to drink up. Glancing around Jamie realised they were alone in the bar. He glanced at his watch.

“I er, well” He stuttered trying to find his thoughts. He did not want the night to end, but given that it was a Sunday night could think of no way to extend it.

“Would you like to come back to my place?” Claire asked outright with no hint of nervousness. “I have whiskey” she added teasingly, seeing him hesitate.

“Aye, why not?” He suddenly felt very alive and not a small bit reckless. He had no expectations of her, but the idea of irresponsibly drinking Scapa Glansa on a Sunday night with the woman of his dreams seemed like too good a chance to pass up.

“I only live around the corner, we can walk” Gathering up her book, which lay discarded on the table, and bag she held out a hand to him. He took it and together they walked out into the rainy night.


	4. Kisses on the Door Step

She had him pinned against the door. Considering her size she was startlingly strong. She was on her tiptoes, one hand tangled in his hair, her other had a very solid grip on his arse. His own hands were tangled in her her soft brown hair. They kissed with fervour and she relinquished the grip on his backside to have another attempt at getting the key in the lock. This time she was successful and the front door swung open with the force of their combined weight upon it, depositing them very messily on the hall floor. Giggling they attempted to untangle themselves from the other.

“Well, Sassenach, you know how to make a fella feel welcome” He staggered to his feet and extended a hand to help her up. She swayed slightly and he caught her by the elbow.   
“Mi casa es su casa” she waved an arm airily, and drunkenly around the hall way. She dragged him down the hall and into the living room. She walked over to a trolley and poured them a very intemperate measure of excellent single malt.   
“I reckon you’re worth the good stuff” she smiled at him, holding the glass out to him. He took it and raised it to her. She looked a little worse for wear. Her hair was a riot around her head, no doubt from him having his hands in it, her face was flushed with a combination of whiskey and desire. He suspected he might be in very much the same state. He felt like a teenager. Excited and a little bit afraid. He had never felt this way and to be hit at thirty eight years of age with such a cri de coeur, his heart and soul reaching for another with such intensity, it made his blood pound and his breath catch in his chest. 

They stood in the center of the room, glasses in hand. Her eyes never left his. As if drawn like magnets they both closed the gap between them. He took her glass from her and set both on the sideboard. He drew her to him and kissed her again. Whilst it lacked the bruising force of their kisses at the front door, he sought to convey exactly how he felt through it. It was too soon for words, for declarations, but his actions could say what he could not speak out loud. It went on for a long time. His hands were on her face and he gently stroked her cheeks with his thumb as he kissed her. Claire, in turn, melted into him, one hand warm on the back of his neck whilst the other moved softly through his hair. They broke apart and they stood, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed breathing each other in. Her hair smelt of of something vaguely citrusy, and he caught the scent of her perfume, a light, fresh scent.

“Mo Nighean donn” he murmured, running his hands through her hair. She leaned back slightly and cocked an eyebrow questioningly.  
“It means my brown haired lass” he said this with such reverence that her color heightened.   
“Will you stay, Jamie?”  
Her words seared through him, the thought of staying the night, of being in her bed. God, he wanted to her. He wanted to sweep her off of her feet and carry her up the stairs and lay her down and worship her. He wanted to feel her soft skin against him as he made love to her. He wanted to hear her cry and sigh and moan his name. But it was too soon. Had they not had so much to drink it might be different, but he was drunk enough to botch it and she was drunk enough to regret it. When he had her first he wanted to be present, physically and emotionally. And he wanted her to be too.

He took a step back and stroked her face.   
“I dinna think that's wise, Mo Nighean Donn. We’ve had a lot of whiskey aye?”  
She looked hurt. “Oh, oh, I see” Jamie could see she plainly didn't.  
“Sassenach. Claire, I want you more than I ever knew it was possible to want another person. I want ye so much I can scarcely breath. And I want to know you feel the same way. When the time comes, I want to know it's no just because ye’ve had too much whiskey.” He lifted her chin so that their eyes met. She nodded shakily and he kissed her again.   
“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow, Claire? I ken it's not much space but.. “  
“Yes, yes, I’ll have dinner with you, Jamie” she answered before he could finish.   
“Will you come to my house? Or would you rather go to a restaurant?”  
“It depends” she retorted starting to recover her humour “can you cook?”  
He laughed. “I’ll have you know I am an excellent cook. My mother made sure of it”  
“Well in that case, I’d be delighted to sample your culinary talents”

She walked him to the door where they kissed again and he very nearly took back his earlier decision not to take her to bed. This was woman was more intoxicating than the whiskey.

The kiss broke and she gave him a gentle shove.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jamie.”

He wasn’t sure why, but he turned and gave her a little bow before blowing her a kiss and walking out into the cool, damp night.


	5. The Key in the Garden

Jamie awoke with the sun shining in where he had failed to draw the curtains the previous night. He felt mildly hungover but elated. Last night with Claire had been wonderful. And she’d agreed to see him again. He had butterflies in his stomach at the thought of seeing her again, of holding her in his arms, of kissing her. He dare not consider more. She had been not only willing, but eager to take him to her bed last night, but they’d both had a lot to drink. He shivered slightly at the thought of having her here, lying next to him, touching him, under him. He shook his head to try and clear it and winced slightly at the whiskey headache. He leaned over to grab his phone. Thirty eight missed calls. He sighed. He checked them, but he knew who they were from. Geneva. It had been a while since the last batch of calls and he had hoped that she had finally stopped. In the past, driven by guilt he would answer her calls, or call her back. He would apologise over and over again for the fact he couldn’t be what she wanted him to be. The fact she had wasted so many years waiting for him, for him to walk out on her after only six months. She would yell abuse at him or sob and beg him to reconsider. It had been nearly 5 years since he left. They had been divorced for three. For the first time he considered his responsibility to Geneva and realised that he had none. She was a grown woman in a relationship with another man. He was a grown man. And he was in love with someone else. If they were to move on he needed to stop feeling so guilty. Sever things more cleanly. He considered what Claire had told him about her ex husband. How she had found a clean break and helped her move on more quickly. That after the initial tears and recriminations, she had simply walked away and had nothing more to do with him. Maybe it was time that he did the same. He cleared the calls and rose to meet the day.

 

He arrived at her door at 7pm sharp and by the speed that Claire answered his knock it was clear that she had been stood behind it waiting. She looked wonderful. Her dark curls were loosely pinned on top of her head so that her face was dominated by those mesmerising golden eyes, and she was wearing a navy blue dress which cut low at the front revealing just a hint of cleavage and her delicate collar bones. He had to fight the urge to kiss her there. Instead though, she stood on tiptoes and pressed her lips very gently to his. 

“And hello to you too, Sassenach” he replied slightly breathlessly. He wondered vaguely if Claire was a witch, so strong and so powerful was his attraction to her. So fast and hard had he fallen. Seeing the hectic colour in her cheeks and the glint in her eye when she looked at him, he had an inkling that his feelings might well be reciprocated and his stomach flipped slightly, the butterflies once again waking up.

They chatted idly and companionably on the drive to Jamie’s. He told her about his day and his meeting with a potential partner in order to expand the brewery business, she told him about her friend Geilis’ latest boyfriend drama and how he had burst into the hospital in the middle of the shift and declared his undying love only for Geilis to tell him to bugger off as she had a bowel to resect and that was quite enough shit for one day. 

They pulled up outside Jamie’s house on a quiet street outside of the city centre. Claire admired his little garden and laughed at his gnome. 

“His name is Angus” He told her seriously. She raised an eyebrow at him. “He was a gift from wee Jamie, my sister’s eldest, when I moved in. He’s had pride of place ever since. Plus he guards my spare key” Jamie winked largely at this last statement and Claire laughed and his heart lifted at the sound. Opening the door he pulled her into the house behind him and feeling reckless and light drew her to him in a kiss. The kiss went on a while and Claire’s hands had found their way under his shirt. He kissed his way along her jaw and down her neck the sound of her little gasp which turned into a moan going straight to his groin. He lifted her slightly from the ground as he returned to her mouth and she surprised him by wrapping her legs around his waist. He turned and sat her on the side table, the bowl where he kept his keys falling to the ground in the process. He was dimly aware that if he didn’t get a grip he might well end up having her on the the highly unsuitable surface of his Ikea Fjallbo sideboard. She had him pulled tight to her and he thrust his hips towards her instinctively. Her other hand moved to the back of his neck, pulling him closer and he moaned into her mouth. His hand moved slowly up her thigh, ruching the fabric of her dress as it went. Her skin felt so soft and smooth and her wanted nothing more than to kiss the expanse of creamy white, lily soft skin.

Claire had moved her attention the buttons on his shirt now and had already undone half of them.

“Jamie” she sighed, her lips moving now, kissing, sucking and nipping his neck. He growled in the back of his throat, barely mastering the urge to yank her from the sideboard, throw her to the ground and have her on one of Jenny’s good turkey carpets. Claire had his shirt fully undone and was slipping it down over his shoulders. What little sense of propriety still remained to him was quickly being worn down as Claire took his nipple between her teeth.

“Jesus God, Claire, I want ye so bad” He had her lifted again and contemplated carrying her into the living room which at least had a sofa and was less draughty than the hall way.

He pushed open the door and came to an abrupt halt as the figure of his ex wife turned to face him.


	6. The fall from grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geneva has even less chill.

He lowered Claire to the ground and looked speculatively at his uninvited visitor.

“What the hell are ye doing in my house, Geneva?” His voice was low but the anger was clear.

Geneva examined her nails casually for a moment, for looking up at Jamie.

“Oh you know, when you get a phone call from a friend to tell you your husband is fucking some whore against a front door in Glasgow, it tends to raise some questions”

“What are you talking about Geneva? Your husband? I’m no your husband. I’ve not been your husband for three years and let's face it, I wasna your husband for a long time before that either” Jamie’s voice was raised slightly now, The sheer incredulity of his ex wife stood in his living room, apparently having let herself in and accusing him of infidelity.

Geneva chose to ignore this point of order.

“Is this her?” she rounded on Claire, the appearance of nonchalant composure starting to slip “rather plain, isn’t she? I mean that hair” She spat out the last word, whilst reaching up to smooth her own gleaming chestnut locks. 

“Geneva, I will no discuss this with ye. I owe ye nothing and you owe me nothing in return. I want you to leave now Geneva. I want you to leave and no come back. I want you to delete my number from your phone. I want ye to forget where I live. Hell, I want you to forget you even know me.” Jamie’s anger was roused, in part from protectiveness of Claire and in part absolute outrage at situation he currently found himself in . “I don’t know were you always this crazy, but you clearly are now. Get out of my sight.”

He moved towards the door and held it wide for her. She glared at him.  
“No.” she yelled, stamping her feet. “No, no, no, no. This is not how this is supposed to happen. You are not supposed to move on. You are meant to come back to your senses and come back to me” She pointed her finger at him in accusation.

“Geneva,” he said with a sigh “you don’t want me. I ken ya are a proud woman and your pride was hurt when we split and I ken that’s what keeps you calling and turning up. But the time has come to swallow that pride. I didna make you happy. You didna make me happy. You’re man now, David? He makes ya happy. Claire, Claire makes me happy” His voice softened and he looked over at Claire who was looking at him, eyes soft and warm. The moment went on a fraction too long for Geneva’s liking and she let out a banshee shriek before launching a large soap stone paperweight in Jamie’s general direction. Jamie dodged the missile and it landed on the floor with a thud after dislodging a large piece of plaster from the wall where Jamie’s head had just been. She skirted round the room looking for something else to throw. Jamie glanced around looking for a safe defensive position.

“STOP IT” the voice was loud and clear and held authority. Claire was stood now directly in front of Geneva, her hands on her hips. Geneva froze looking at Claire. “Geneva” she said calmly, “I think you should leave. I understand you feel hurt, but you should leave before you do anything you regret” Jamie thought there was a certain irony to that statement given that Geneva had broken into his house, accused him of adultery and tried to kill him with a paperweight. He said nothing however.

Geneva flared her nostrils and exhaled heavily. “Oh you think, I’m just going to give him to you, do you…”  
Claire cut her off before she could go any further. “He’s not your property and he’s not mine. You can’t give him and I can’t ‘take’ him from you. Now I really think you should go” Claire picked up Geneva’s bag and jacket from where they lay across an arm chair and held them out to her. After a moment she reached out and took them. She breathed heavily for a moment and then with a flip of shiny chestnut hair, pushed past Claire out into the hallway. A second later the front door slammed, followed by the gate. They stood for a moment in complete silence, hardly even breathing. Jamie was trying to decide where to start in his apologies when Claire started to laugh. It started as giggle and in moments was a fully blown belly laugh. Jamie joined in as Claire slide down the wall to the ground clutching her sides.

“Does, does that happen often?” She managed to choke out between gales of hysterical laughter.

“No, no” Jamie attempted to reassure her. “Only once before, but she got me with the paperweight that time.”

He crossed the room to where Claire sat trying and failing to regain her composure. He held out a hand to her. “Do you still want to have dinner with me, Claire?” He voice was calm now and held a hint of uncertainty “would you prefer it if I just took you home?”

“No, Jamie. I would love to have dinner still” She reached her hand out to him so that he could help her up and as he did so she pulled him close. “She leaned up and spoke quietly into his ears as she wrapped her arms around him. “I meant it when I told her you weren’t mine. But I want you to be.” He cupped her face in his hands and searched her face. In it he saw his own thoughts and feelings mirrored back at him. The feeling that he had, in this woman met the other half of his soul had been a constant since the moment that he had first laid eyes upon her, but now he truly got the sense that she felt the same. He tucked her hair back behind her ears and kissed her hard.  
“And I want you to be mine, Mo Neighan donn. I am yours body and soul and have been since the moment I spilled whiskey down your pink dress.”

Dinner was light hearted and relaxed. The chatted about music that they liked and films that they had seen. They talked of places they had visited and places they still wanted to go. Claire had Jamie in stitches as she told him the story of how she had fallen off a camel in the middle of the Sahara whilst trekking with the Toureg to get to Uncle Lamb’s dig. Claire laughed heartily as Jamie recounted his adventures in Paris during his placement year. “This is what happiness is “ He thought to himself as Claire recounted yet another of her seemingly inexhaustible anecdotes from her teenage years travelling the great archaeological sites of the world with Uncle Lamb. “This is what it is to be with someone who completes you”

They cleared plates together and loaded the dishwasher, both finding an absurd amount of pleasure in even these mundane domestic tasks.

Claire looked at her watch.   
“Do you want me to take you home now, Claire?” he asked quietly “I ken you’ve likely a busy day tomorrow”

“Let me stay, Jamie” her voice was almost a whisper. She looked at him, her jaw taut with tension and nerves. 

“I’d like that verra much, Sassenach” came his soft reply. He took the cloth she had been holding from her and placed it on the counter. 

“Come then, Sassenach. Let’s go to bed”


	7. The night that was dreamed of

Jamie lay on his back. He could see light creeping through the cracks where the breeze from the open window blew the curtains gently. The light was pale and watery, telling him that it was still very early. He turned his head and looked at Claire. He could make out the cascade of her hair as it spilled across the pillow in a riot of curls. She was laid on her side, her back to him, the sheets ruched around her waist. Rolling onto his side he gently drew a finger down her back, her skin was smooth and he traced down the curve of her waist where it met her high round buttock. She stirred slightly under his touch, but did not wake. Jamie could hardly believe she was real. Had he really only met her on Saturday? He felt like he had known her forever. Like she knew everything there was to know about him. He rolled back onto his back thinking about the previous night. He’d been so frightened. When Geneva turned up, yes he’d been angry, but more than that he had been afraid. Afraid that Claire would run, that she would not want to involve herself in such messy complications. And yet she had stayed. And she was still here. Sleeping peacefully in his bed, the soft sounds of her breathing like a balm, soothing his soul with each gently breath. 

He had taken her by the hand and led her to his bedroom. He had kissed her in the doorway.

“Are you sure Mo Nighean Donn?” Jamie asked her again “Is this what you truly want?”

Claire had answered him in actions, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. She had kissed him long and hard before taking a step backwards into the room, pulling him with her. She had stood in front of him then.

“Take off your clothes. I want to look at you” Her gaze did not leave his as he began by unbuttoning his shirt and dropping it to the ground. He kicked off shoes and socks before slowly moving his hands to the buckle of his belt. She bit her lip slightly and he felt it in his groin. Slowly, he unbuttoned his jeans and slid both them and his boxer shorts down to the ground where he stepped out of them. She moved towards him then, and around him. Using only the very tips of her fingers she ran them along his chest and down to his stomach and then moved around, running them across his hims and very gently skirting his butt. His breath hitched and he felt light headed. She stepped back and met his gaze once more.

“Well, fair’s fair.” He spoke with a slight smile. “Now you take of yours”

With a defiant tilt of her chin she shed the blue dress letting it fall at her feet revealing a navy blue bra and pants. She reached behind her and slowly unhooked the bra, inching the straps down her arms. He held his breath. Running her hands down her own stomach she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her pants. She paused, looking up at him, eyes slightly cloudy with desire. He swallowed audibly. She inched the pants down and stood up straight in front of him. He reached out to touch her, but found her could not. Claire took another step closer to him and took him by the hand.

“Touch me Jamie.”  
She lifted his hand to her breast. The feel of it so full and firm in his hand made him feel as though he had been hit by lightning. He pulled her close and kissed her hard, lifting her as he did so and turning towards the bed. He lay her down on the bed, his weight on top of her, enjoying the feeling of them touching along their entire bodies. Her hands were in his hair as they kissed and she brought one leg up and around him. He shifted slightly so that they were on their sides facing each other. Her ran a hand along the leg that was hooked over him, enjoying the way it broke into goosebumps as his hand moved. He dipped his hand and ran it over her bottom and she gasped slightly and rocked her hips towards him. Her moan was met with a growl from the back of Jamie’s throat as her hips created friction between them. He ran his hand further down, find the hot wetness of her. She gasped again, her head falling back. Shifting slightly he moved his fingers against her, finding the spot that had her panting. She reached towards him but he pushed her back, kissing her and murmuring “Not yet, Mo Nighean Donn, I want to watch you”. She dropped her head back on the bed her hips rising to meet his hands, her breath coming faster. Her fingers gripped his arms as her body began to to tense and she cried out rising up and biting his shoulder as she did so. She lay panting in his arms and he gently laid her back down, kissing her temple where the sweat ran down her face.

“Jamie” she whispered, her eyes fluttering open though her breath still came in gasps. “Jamie” She said his name again, more urgently this time. She rolled over until she was straddling him. She leaned forward to kiss him, her dark hair coming down around them, shielding them from the world. He ran his hands down her body, wanting to feel and memorise every inch of her. She lifted her hips slightly and slowly sank down on him. She didn’t move for a moment. They both were still, trying to deal with the intensity of the feeling. And then she began to move. She had ridden him slowly at first, with deep, long thrusts. His hands were on her hips and hers against his chest as they moved together. He pulled her down to him for a kiss, tongues dancing in time with their hips. He moved so that she was on her back now and she wrapped both legs around his hips as she arched towards him. Her hips rocked harder against him as their movements sped up, both of them breathing erratically. Jamie was vaguely aware of a stream of gaelic he spoke into her ear, completely unable to stop himself telling her all the things he felt for her. In that moment he had no english with which to tell her those things, only the feel of her beneath, her hands on his back and in his hair, her lips against his neck, the feel of her hair tickling his face as he whispered his secrets into her ear. Their breathing came heavy and their movements more erratic as both neared completion. He gathered her in his arms, pulling her closer, thrusting hard as his orgasm ripped through him. She in turn, clawed at his back and pulled hard at his hair as she cried out his name. 

They lay like that for a long time. Arms wrapped around each other, bodies slick with sweat, just breathing each other in. As Jamie’s heart slowed he realised his face was wet not only with sweat but with tears as well. “Claire, oh my Claire” he whispered into her hair. She pulled him nearer and he could feel that her face was wet with tears too. He rolled them both onto their sides and they lay together touching each other gently and looking at each other. He felt a peace in that moment that he had not thought it possible to have, a profound sense of well being and wholeness that he had not felt since he was a child. The feeling of being wholly and unconditionally loved and understood. They had made love several more times, each time as world changing as the last, until at last they had drifted off to sleep, legs entwined, each secure in the knowledge of feelings that could not yet be said out loud. 

 

He turned and stroked her hair. She turned and faced him, not quite emerging from the depths of her slumber. She reached her arms out for him and he moved close to her so that they were resting in each other’s arms. And with that he slowly sank back into sleep, the breeze from the open window dancing across his back.


	8. A soul that is lost

He’d dropped Claire at home on Tuesday morning on his way to work. He spent the rest of the week in meetings and then the latter half up at Lallybroch, overseeing some extension work and meeting with the other members of the Lallybroch board. He hadn’t foreseen quite what a behemoth of tourism and industry the sleepy little highland estate was to become when he’d first took the notion to move beyond simple agriculture.

As a result he didn’t see Claire for the rest of the week, though they exchanged at least a dozen text messages a day, ranging from the mundane through the very NSFW. After she’s sent him a fairly explicit picture of her in her underwear that flashed up on his phone in the middle of the shareholders meeting causing his sister, Jenny’s eyebrows vanish into her hairline, he’d taken to keeping his phone in his pocket rather than on the desk in front of him.

He was driving back into Glasgow on Friday afternoon and Claire was off work until Monday night when she started two weeks of night shifts. The plan was that she would come over Friday night and they would base themselves at his house for the weekend. Jamie was torn between not leaving the bedroom for the entire time and the desire to be out living life with this glorious, untamed woman, to get to know her better.

He’d been home about an hour and was frantically dusting his bookshelf when he heard a car door slam followed by the sound of his gate opening. Peeking out of the window he admired her as she came up the path. He was wearing shiny brown ankle boots and a cotton breton striped dress with big pockets in the skirt. Her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun at her nape. The thought of unpinning the mass of curls and watching it cascade around her face distracted him so much that he didn’t see her approach the window until she knocked on it. He jumped slightly and she laughed. She then leant forward and left a pink kiss on the window. His heart clenched at the casual intimacy of the act as he went to let her in. 

He opened the door and stepped back to grant her access and as she walked in he couldn’t help but think about how she belonged here, here in his space. She fit into it as if she had always existed in it.

He looked at her as she bent and looked under the side table, before opening the coat closet door, peering in. She shut it again and popped her head around the living room door.

“Whatever are ye doin’, Sassenach?” he asked her as she slowly opened the door to the kitchen and looked in.

“Oh just checking that you haven’t gotten any ex wives stashed around the place ready to leap out on us” She laughed as she said this her eyes sparkling with mischief and humour. Jamie tried and failed to look affronted and laughed instead.   
“You’ll no doubt be pleased to hear that my first job when I arrived at work on Tuesday was getting a locksmith in.”

“Does this also mean that the gnome is out of a job?” She arched her brow.

“Aye” he responded. “Wee Angus has been found unfit for duty. His role from here is merely decorative”

“Glad to hear it, as erm, exhilarating, as the our last encounter was, I’m in rush to bump into Geneva Fraser any time soon”

“Dunsany” He said.

“Pardon?”

“Her name is no’ Fraser. Its Dunsany. She never was a Fraser. Dinna be calling her that” He spoke with something more than simple irritation or the desire to correct her.

“I’m sorry, Jamie” she spoke softly. “I didn’t mean anything, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to upset you.”

He let out a long sigh. 

“Dinna fash, Claire. Its me that’s sorry. I shouldna be getting all cranky with you. It’s just Geneva and I were over so long ago. In fact we were never anything much to begin with, and now here she is getting in between me and you.”

He looked so distraught that Claire reached out and stroked his face.   
“We don’t have to talk about her anymore if that’s what you want. She isn’t important.”

“She held me prisoner wi’ guilt for so long, Claire, “ he took Claire’s hand and looked at her imploringly, his blue eyes dark with emotion. “I felt guilty that I couldna make it work with her, I felt guilty that I was such a disappointment, I felt guilty that I’d married her when I knew deep down I didna really love her. I never really moved on myself because I didn’t feel I deserved to. And then I met you…”

He kissed her gently. “And then I met you and it was like someone had smashed the cage that held me. The moment I laid eyes on you. I wanted you, I wanted you in a way I’ve never wanted anyone else. In a way that I thought was just made up for books and songs.” He flushed slightly at the weight of his admission.

“But it’s real” Claire said softly.

“Aye,” he said. “Aye, it’s realer than I ever knew.”

 

They spent Saturday in the city. Claire took him to her favourite cafe for breakfast. “When you work the night shift as often as I do, you learn the best places.” They chatted over eggs and hot coffee. Jamie told Claire all about the work going on at Lallybroch.

“It sounds amazing.” She said, taking a gulp of her long black. “You know, all the years I’ve been living in Scotland, I’ve not made it to the Highlands at all. Frank used to go all the time, but it was always on some fact finding mission, so I always stayed behind.

Jamie looked appalled at this admission. ‘Well, that’s just no good, Sassenach. Next time you’ve more than a couple of days off together, I’ll take ye. We’ll have a few days in Inverness and then I’ll take ye to Lallybroch.” He paused. “That’s if you’d like to go. To see it, I mean. If you no feel like it would be too much pressure. We can just go to Inverness, if you prefer…” He trailed off. Claire reached over and put her hand on his. I would love to see Lallybroch, Jamie. It’s such a big part of who you are. How could I not want to see that for myself?” They sat in silence for a moment, fingers weaving together, Jamie massaging her palm slightly with his thumb. 

“I might have a small favour to ask in return though” she said slowly.

“Oh, aye? And what would that be then?” He raised his eyebrow at her. 

“Weeeel,” she said, “My hospital is having a huge fundraising dinner and I’ve been basically ordered to attend. Would you come with me? As my date? It will probably be a dreadful stuffy affair, but it would certainly be a lot more enjoyable with a dashing highlander on my arm.” She winked at him playfully.

“If ye keep saying that part about the ‘dashing highlander’ I don’t doubt I can be persuaded. I’ll need to wear my kilt though, aye?

“Oh believe me, Jamie, I absolutely insist.”

 

On Sunday he took her to his favourite pub for Sunday lunch and beers. With more beer drunk than food consumed, they staggered back to Jamie’s around 6pm, collapsing onto the sofa.

Watching Netflix on a rainy Sunday evening with Claire snuggled up against him, Jamie wished he could stop time. Everything about the weekend had been perfect. Better than perfect. He had never dreamed that passion and friendship could be so inextricably entwined. He wanted her, her couldn’t look at her without wanting to take her to his bed and pleasure her. But he also liked and respected her. He found her hilarious. She had an offbeat sense of humour and an acute sense of the ridiculous and a tendency to dissolve into giggles in inappropriate situations. She made him feel protective, like he could slay dragons or rescue her from tall towers, but at the same time she was one of the strongest and most capable people he’d ever met. She made him feel safe. 

He brushed her hair away from her face and leaned down to kiss her gently.

“Hmmm” she responded slightly sleepily. He kissed her again and she turned to fully face him. She held his face in her hands for a moment before moving to straddle him. He ran his hands up her back and felt her shiver. They kissed for a long time, arms wrapped tight around the other, no space between them. She pressed down her hips, seeking friction between them. He let out a low groan and pulled her down by her hips. She bit him gently on his bottom lip, before moving down, kissing his jaw and neck, pausing here and there to worry the skin with her teeth. He made a guttural sound in his throat as she moved back up biting at his earlobe. 

He stood abruptly, his arms tight around her keeping her in place. She wrapped her legs around his hips and he moved to his knees and slowly lowered her to the floor. His thick red hair fell forward and she reached up and pushed it back, meeting his eyes with hers. She kissed him gently on his forehead, his nose, his chin, before meeting his lips. The kiss was soft and chaste, but infinitely tender. Jamie felt himself shudder as he attempted to hold himself in check. Not from his physical desire, but his desire, in that moment to tell her everything. Everything he thought and felt, every tender feeling held in check, every word of love he could not, should not, yet proclaim out loud. This woman was his soul. He knew this and he abdicated entirely. He lifted her gently in his arms at carried her to bed.


	9. As a door closes

She opened the door and Jamie was speechless. Claire was always beautiful, more than beautiful, but looking at her right now he simply could not formulate thoughts into speech. She wore a tight fitted black sequinned gown with a high neck and capped sleeves. A slit ran up one side revealing an expanse of creamy leg and strappy silver sandals. But her head was the biggest shock. Normally Claire favoured natural looking makeup, muted tones in browns and greys, her hair either haphazardly restrained or a riot of curls which grazed her shoulders. But today she looked entirely different, her whiskey coloured eyes looked even more tigerish with an application of flicked up eyeliner and her lips were an enticing cranberry red. Her hair, normally such a riot, fell in sleek, smooth waves down to her breasts. She looked at him shyly. “What do you think?” She gave him a little swirl revealing a low back. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly and she laughed. “Oh good, you like it!” He watched her sashay down the path towards the waiting car, swallowing audibly.

The event was a combination of wealthy donors, local businessmen and hospital staff. As it happened, because of this Jamie knew at least as many people as Claire and he was kept more than busy shaking hands, answering queries about Lallybroch and talking shop. Claire moved round the room, chatting, smiling and generally trying to encourage the great and good in attendance to cough up some money to help refurb the ailing pediatrics wing. Prior to choosing General Surgery Claire had rotated through the department and had been sorely tempted by a career in that speciality. As it was she had gone another way, but she was often called upon by the department when a general surgeon was needed and she had campaigned passionately for the wing in its bid to upgrade its facilities. Jamie watched her work the room. Her smile was simply radiant. He was struck again by his sheer fortune that such a wonderful woman was his. His pride in her and her achievements was endless and to see her here, tonight, amongst her peers, he thought his heart would burst with it. He lost sight of her for a moment and he scanned the room, his height giving his an advantage. She popped up beside him holding two glasses of champagne. “I managed to charm these out the waiter. He didn’t want to give me any as they are having terrible trouble rounding everyone up to go into dinner” Her face was flushed slightly from the champagne and it gave her a glow that made her look even more lovely. She hooked an arm through his. “I forgot to ask. What happened to the kilt I was promised?” Instead of the aforementioned kilt, Jamie was wearing a bright blue three piece suit. Single breasted with a sharp white shirt and blue tie he looked magnificent amongst the sea of black tuxedos, his red hair and towering height making him stand out even further. “Well, the last time I wore a kilt to an event like this I spent half the night bein’ asked what I wore underneath it an’ the other half fending off women tryna find out for themselves. I figured I’d save myself the bother this time” he laughed. “Are ye disappointed?” 

“Well, a little bit,” she answered tilting her head to one side to look at him. “But on the other hand you look sexy as hell in that suit, so I can’t complain too much can I?” She gave him a lewd wink which made them both laugh and he drew her to him and kissed her on her forehead.   
“And you, Mo Nighean Donn,” He said, “I canna begin to say how wonderful you look. Ye’re always the most beautiful woman in the room, but tonight, well, I keep having to pinch myself to make sure I’m awake.” Her colour heightened a little more, but her response was cut off by the the boom of the ever jocular chief of surgery.  
“Claire, Claire. I hardly recognised you without your scrubs and cap! Isn’t it fun trying to spot everyone in their civvies?”  
He kissed her lightly on the cheek and she turned to introduce Jamie. He shook Jamie’s hand warmly.  
“This is Dr Grant, our chief, this is Jamie, my…” she paused slightly as she cast around for the right title. They’d only know each other three weeks and whilst what they had was clearly serious, they’d not yet gotten round to defining it in any way. “...my partner” she settled for, looking at Jamie meaningfully.   
“Partner,” he thought “Aye, that’ll do for now, but one day…”   
This thought was abruptly cut short, by Dr Grant turing behind him and pulling forward a couple about Jamie and Claire’s age. “This is my nephew, David.” He said smiling broadly, “He’s a property developer. And this is his fiancee, Geneva.”

Jamie felt the heat rise in his face and Claire coughed slightly as she took a too big gulp of champagne. Geneva’s chestnut hair was swept back from her face and she wore a flowing tulle gown with a slight princess skirt in a soft blush pink. She also wore a very large, if conventional, diamond which she had not been wearing the last time the three of them had come face to face. She looked ethereal and stunning. She also looked uncomfortable and embarrassed, clearly not enjoying this impromptu reunion any more than Claire and Jamie. David, a handsome man, with dark hair a soft brown eyes, also appeared somewhat discomfited by this meeting. He may or may not have been aware of the show down in Jamie’s living room, but it was obvious he knew who Jamie was. He moved slightly closer to Geneva, placing a hand around her waist. Claire recovered herself first.

“Oh how lovely. And what a beautiful ring. Have you set a date?” The corner of Geneva’s mouth lifted slightly as she answered. “Oh, not yet, but we’re hoping for next summer. We only got engaged last week, didn’t we darling?’ She turned to David. “Oh, yes, just last week” he replied. Dr Grant laughed loudly digging poor David in the side. “But how many times did ye have to ask the lass? What was it four times before she finally said yes to you?” David smiled blandly, Jamie developed an acute interest in the pattern on the carpet. Thankfully the waiting staff took that moment to get assertive and they were promptly rounded up and herded into the ballroom.

 

Fortunately, Dr Grant’s table was over near the front of the room, whilst Jamie and Claire, along with a host of other hospital staff were tucked away near the back.

“Keeping us hidden” said Geillis, archly, flipping red hair over her shoulder. “But still, least we’re much nearer the bar here” She waved a red nailed hand in the direction of a waiter beckoning him over. Next to her, her new boyfriend, Josh sat looking slightly bemused and very much under her spell. Jamie was thrilled to at last have a chance to meet all the friends that Claire had regaled him with stories of. Her friend Joe Abernathy, who had transferred here from Boston, the indomitable Mrs Fitz, who despite clearly having a first name, no one called anything else, including her husband a jocular highlander with a big laugh who had clearly not suffered the same concerns as Jamie as he wore a kilt in eye catching MacKenzie tartan. Timid little Mary who spoke quietly but after a few drinks it turned out had a fondness for rude jokes and a huge dirty laugh. These were the people who he knew were important to Claire. As someone with no blood ties, this was the closest she had to real family and he was acutely aware of what it meant that she had wanted him here, with her and them tonight. The night was a lot more fun than he had expected. He found that he had an easy rapport with Claire’s friends who made him welcome, and with the exception of Geillis, who Claire had warned him about, none of them felt the need to grill him too intently. They danced until Claire begged for mercy, her high heels finally getting the better of her. Moving off to the side he drew her close and kissed her deeply. “Shall we go home now, Mo Nighean Donn?” he murmured into her ear.   
“Oh yes” she replied. “I might not be getting the chance to find out what a Scotsman wears under his kilt, but I’m still pretty interested in what might be going on under that suit” She tugged his earlobe gently with her teeth and he gave a shudder. “I’ll just pop to the bathroom and then we’ll leave”

He waited across the hall for Claire, fiddling with his phone. A blur of pink caught the corner of his eye as the statuesque figure of his ex wife strode purposefully into the bathroom in which Claire had just entered. 

Claire had been in there for a while. So had Geneva. He’d seen David go by looking for her, but offered no information. He stared at the door willing it to open and for Claire to come out. He couldn’t hear any shouting. Or screaming. That was something he supposed. Surely if something terrible was happening he’d hear it. But still what were they both doing in there. The door opened and Geneva exited, catching Jamie’s eyes briefly. He tried to make out the expression behind them, but she was gone too quickly. Another minute later, the door opened again this time bringing Claire with it.

Jamie’s eyebrows were almost under his hairline. “And what was that about? Should I be worried? She’s no been telling you what a terrible man I am has she?”

Claire laughed at Jamie was surprised to feel his heart and stomach both unclench a little. She stood on tiptoes and kissed him lightly. “Let’s go home and I’ll tell you everything”

She sat facing him on the sofa in her living room. She’d kicked off her heels in the hall and her hair was starting to kink slightly.

“Well, I don’t think you need to be too concerned with Geneva from now on Jamie. We had a good chat and I think things are going to be ok on that front.”

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? We’ve been seperated for over 4 years and she turned up at my house because she’d heard I’d been kissing someone. She’s no exactly rational.”

“No really, Jamie. Just listen”

As Claire had stepped out of the cubicle she had walked straight into Geneva. Dodging round her to wash her hands, she had become aware of the fact that Geneva was clearly there to speak with her. She waited for a beat.

“C..Claire?” Geneva began unsteadily, clearly searching for the words. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. For the other day. It was, it was… unacceptable.” Claire opened her mouth to respond but Geneva raised her hand imploring to be allowed to continue. Claire nodded.

“Jamie was right. It was pride. I was so angry with him. For so long. I felt cheated by him. When we got married I wanted it to be a certain way. But it wasn’t. So I tried to change him. To make him into what I wanted him to be, rather than simply accepting that he wasn’t what I wanted any more than I was what he wanted. And he, being the honourable man he is left. He couldn’t live a lie, he couldn’t be less than his true self. And I was so angry. For almost 5 years it's eaten away at me. He’s the only thing I’ve ever failed at. That I haven't been able to bend to my will as it were. And so I couldn’t let go. Even after I met David, who is everything I was looking for in my marriage to Jamie and couldn’t find, I still didn’t let go. I didn’t let Jamie go. I knew, deep down that he would feel the weight of the failure of our marriage whether it was his fault or not and I used that to hurt him. Whilst I was living my life and being happy elsewhere, and Jamie was right about that, David does make me happy, I kept on punishing him. And all because I couldn’t admit failure. When my friend called me and told me she’d seen the two of you. I don’t know what came over me. It was like all the anger and bitterness of the last four years were just poured over my head. I wanted to rip my skin off with it. But I saw then , the way he looked at you. The way he never, ever looked at me. But I do have someone who looks at me like that. David has been asking me to marry him for years and I’ve always said no. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t bear for Jamie to feel like he had permission to move on. And I’m sorry. I’m so very fucking sorry.” The profanity seemed out of place coming out of the mouth of one so perfectly coiffed and softly spoken. She seemed a different person to the wild eyed, object flinging woman of only a few weeks earlier. She looked at her hands and adjusted her ring.  
“Tell Jamie.” She looked Claire in the eye. “Tell him I’m sorry. For all of it. And that I wish him… I wish him joy.” Claire nodded slowly and Geneva smiled, tears in her eyes. Claire unthinkingly reached out a hand and Geneva took it squeezing her fingers slightly. She nodded stiffly and in turned and was gone in a swish of pink tulle and chanel No 5. Claire stood there for a moment, wondering if that had really happened. She took a deep breath and went back to join Jamie. 

 

“So she really said all that?’ Jamie asked incredulous. He had known Geneva a long time and whilst he knew she did have her virtues he wasn’t sure magnanimity had ever been one of them.

“She did” Claire replied nodding. “Whether she meant it, I guess only time will tell, but she seemed genuine” She shrugged. “I’m glad we can put it behind us though. I’m glad that *you* can move on with your life now.

“Aye, aye I can” he met her eyes and held her gaze, reaching for her hand as he did so. “And I so what you to be part of that life, Claire. Next weekend, I ken ye’re off work until Wednesday, will ye come to the Highlands wi me? To Lallybroch?” Nerves were making his accent thicker. 

“Jamie, I honestly cannot think of a nicer way to spend my time off.” He smiled a smile of such joy that he looked, for a moment like a small boy. She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. “But right now I want to find out what a scotsman wears under his suit.”


	10. Confessions of a Heart

He glanced over at her as the drove down the bumpy driveway. Just around the corner Claire would get her first glimpse of the house and he desperately wanted to see her face when she did. Claire, he knew, was the great love of his life,but Lallybroch was the other and his life’s work. His stomach clenched slightly. He wanted her to love it. He needed to her to at least appreciate it. And, he admitted secretly, he wanted her to feel at home here. He had never quite relinquished the dream that one day he would live here at Lallybroch, with children of his own. Only a month ago that dream seemed distant, almost a fantasy, the woman he would share it with faceless and indistinct, but now… Now he saw Claire in the kitchen, drinking tea at the big scrubbed table as she poured over her medical journals, he saw them walking hand in hand across the fields, their children running to and fro. He saw her curled up in the big chair by the fire, her belly swollen with his child, face peaceful and serene in the firelight.

They’d spent Friday and Saturday night in Inverness. They’d had dinner in the town, walked along the river bank in the rain and driven through miles of wild countryside, the top down on Claire’s turquoise porsche. It made him laugh that Claire, the most practical and level headed person he had ever met had such an impractical car. She had bought it when she first started making decent money as a surgeon and she and Frank had divorced, the only extravagance she had ever really indulged in. 

“I remember seeing one when I was a teenager and I just loved it. Frank used to roll his eyes and insisted I should have something more practical. The minute we got divorced I sold my Volvo and bought this. It can be a bit draughty in December, but I love it. In fact, until the fundraiser when I spent an obscene amount on my dress and shoes in an effort to impress *you*, its pretty much the only thing I’ve ever splashed out on purely because I wanted it”

She had insisted on driving on this trip, claiming that her car deserved a run on decent roads. Jamie had laughed and acquiesced. She’s even let him drive it after she accidentally had too much to drink at a whiskey tasting. 

He’d told her all about Lallybroch. How, whilst it was a profitable working farm, the upkeep of the house, an original eighteenth century building with all the maintenance costs that go with that, had proved difficult. The family came very close to selling the property to the National Trust, who at least would have maintained it, when Jamie had interceded. He had packed in his oil and gas job and invested every last penny he had saved into Lallybroch. They opened the main house to the public initially, building a small tea room and playground. Later he had added a large soft play barn, a restaurant, farm shop and converted some of the out buildings into guest accommodation. A large barn served as a wedding venue. The most recent addition was the craft brewery, which in the current enthusiasm for obscure beers had done incredibly well in a short space of time. 

“We’ve made a decent profit the last two years, and set to make even more this year.”

“Jamie?” Claire asked, “If you work so hard on this, why do you live in Glasgow?”

“Ah,” he replied blushing slightly, “Weel, under normal circumstances I live in Glasgow Monday to Wednesday, seeing to the business side of things and the brewery distribution and then I’ll be at Lallybroch Thursday and Friday and then spend the weekend wherever I’m needed most. Though the last few weeks, well, I’ve found I’ve needed to be in Glasgow.” He looked at her with a sheepish grin. 

“Jaaamie,” she gave him a push, you shouldn’t be neglecting your life’s work in order to snog me outside pubs on Sauchiehall Street”

“Oh, but Mo Nighean donn, it was totally worth it.”

She pulled up outside. He moved to unbuckle his seat belt but noticed that she was very still.

“Everything alright, Sassenach?” He asked, the strain apparent in his voice.

“Of course, Jamie. It’s just…” she faltered as she searched for the words she needed. “I don’t really know how to act around families. As you know, my upbringing was unconventional and there is really just me now and even when I was married to Frank, he wasn’t close with his parents and they never really approved of me so, it tended to just be the two of us.”

She looked down before inhaling with deliberation and raising to meet his eyes again.  
“I know how important your family are to you. What if they hate me? I couldn’t ask or expect you to choose me”

This was the first time since their first date when she told him about Frank that she’d ever really displayed insecurity. He felt a little stab in his heart, a tender spot in the place where he kept her. 

“Oh Mo Nighean donn,” I took both her hands in his body twisting to face her. She looked so vulnerable, trying to meet his eyes, breath coming not entirely steadily. “Please know this. I love my family. I love Lallybroch, I love Scotland, I love the glens and the lochs and hills. Hell, I even love the rain.” She laughed shakily and he continued. “But believe me when I say this Claire, I would choose you over all of them and not even give it a second thought. I would walk away from everything and all that I hold dear if that is what I had to do to be with you. And I wouldna regret it a bit, Claire. I wouldna think twice, wouldna hesitate. You are my heart and my soul, Claire. In the thirty eight years that I have walked this earth I have never felt as alive or full of joy as I have in the last 4 weeks. I had no idea it was possible to feel this way. To ken that you have a soulmate and that you’ve found them and they might feel the same.” He looked searchingly into her eyes, for confirmation and she leaned forward and kissed him hotly and with feeling. “Claire, oh my Claire. I didna expect the first time I said these words to be sitting in a ridiculous coloured car in the carpark of my own home, but oh Claire, please know this. I love ye. I have been in love wi ye since I spilled whiskey on ye in that awful club. And every moment I spend with ye only makes me love you more.” He exhaled strongly and dropped his head, spent with the emotion. And then he felt fear. He had no meant to say so much, to lay his heart and soul on the line with such unambiguity. His hands shook and he dragged his eyes up to meet her face as if they were made of lead.

She was looking at him. Looking at him with such a look of utter tenderness on her face that he felt his heart lift a little. She reached out and stroked a finger down his face, like she had done in the club, what felt like centuries ago, but had in fact been a little more than a month. 

“Oh Jamie, my Jamie” he could hear the emotion in her voice. A single tear overflowed and ran down her cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb. “I love you, too” He leaned forward and kissed her and his world was complete.


	11. A Wish to the Moon

They were interrupted by the sound of giggling coming from the driver’s side of the car. Breaking apart they turned to find five children of varying sizes looking in at them. The appearance of a chubby hand which left a sticky print on the window suggested that a sixth, smaller child also accompanied them.

Jamie opened his door and stepped out. Moving around the car, he gently shooed the children away and opened the driver’s door for Claire. He was immediately set upon by the crowd with much unseemly jostling and cries of “Up! Up, uncle Jamie.” Jamie extricated the smallest child from the melee and swung him up before he could be properly trampled by the others. The child, a small boy of about two, immediately caught Jamie’s head in an enthusiastic embrace which temporarily blinded Jamie and made Claire laugh. Untangling the small boys arms and swinging him up onto his shoulders he turned to Claire.

“Now then, Claire” he smiled as he turned and affected introductions. “This here is wee Jamie,” He indicated a boy of about ten. “This is Maggie and this here is our Kitty.” He indicated two girls aged about eight and nine. “These are the twins, Michael and wee Janet, and this little tyke here,” he indicated the toddler who was now lovingly resting his cheek against the top of Jamie’s head, whilst patting his cheek. “is wee Ian. These are my sister, Jenny’s bairns.” He said by way of explanation. “And this here,” he turned to the children and indicated Claire. “is Claire”

“Is she your girlfriend, uncle Jamie?” asked Maggie, her head tilted as she considered Claire. “Why were ya kissing her? Are you going to marry her, Uncle Jamie? Will ye both come here and live at Lallybroch after ye get married? If ye have a baby can I hold it sometimes? And maybe give it its bottle. Does she have a baby in her tummy already?”   
“Oooh can I be bridesmaid?” piped up the smallest girl. “I never got to be a bridesmaid. Kitty an’ Maggie have, but I was still in ma’s tummy so I couldna do it.”

Jamie laughed and stole a glance at Claire, who looked rather bemused but thankfully not too put out at the barrage of questions being put forth by this miniature interrogation squad.

“That’s enough questions now.” He stated with mock severity. “Ye’ll no want Claire thinking ye’ve no manners would ya?” He reached a hand to Claire and she took it, smiling. Her eyes flicked up to the small boy still clinging to Jamie, who was now playing with a lock of his hair with a beatific smile upon his face, before meeting Jamie’s eyes once again. There was a look in her eyes, a wistfulness, despite her smile, that made Jamie’s heart ache a little. He remembered her story from their first date, he knew of her trials and tribulations in attempting to conceive in her former marriage. And he knew of her fears that now, at thirty eight, it might be far too late and whatever slim chances she might once of had of a child were slipping through her fingers. He reached out at brushed a curl away from her face with a finger.  
“Come Mo Nighean Donn, come and make yourself at home.” He wrapped an arm round her shoulders and she placed hers around his waist as they followed the throng of children towards the house.

They followed the children around the back of the main house and out towards and converted outbuilding which had been repurposed into a large family home. What had once been large doors were now huge picture windows which gave the place a sense of light and space.

“When we decided to open up the main house to the public, Ian and Jenny renovated this place rather than living in apartments in the main house.” Jamie explained to Claire. “Tryin’ to keep the bairns away from the eighteenth century decor was just more trouble than it was worth”

“It’s beautiful,” sighed Claire. “Though they must miss the main house”

“Ah, not so you’d notice” a male voice piped up behind them. Both turned to greet the voice.

“We’ve much more space out here and Jenny likes the sense of separation between her work and her home life. It might be only a couple of hundred yards, but we prefer it.” The man turned to Jamie and gathered him in an embrace, careful not to dislodge the small boy. “Jamie, man. How are ya? The kids have been mad wi’ excitement all week about ye’re visit and Jenny, well, Jenny’s done no’ but cook and clean since she heard ye were bringing a friend with you.” He looked archly at Claire waiting for an introduction.

“Ah, Ian, I want ye to meet Claire. Claire, this is Ian, my best friend since childhood who also now happens to be my brother in law as well.” Ian smiled warmly at her, before gathering her up in a hug.   
“Welcome to Lallybroch, Claire. Jenny will be along directly. She just had to make a mad dash for the tea room when she realised she had no cream”

“It’s lovely to meet you too, Ian.” Claire returned the smile. “Jamie has told me so much about you all”

At that moment a small dark woman entered the room. As dark as Jamie was bright but with the same slanted blue eyes and high cheek bones, she barely reached his shoulders but gave off such force of personality she dominated the space.

Jamie tensed. He and his sister had always been close, more so since their father died and it was just the two of them but she was a plain speaker and blunt as a dull knife when she chose to be. He had always known she had little time for Geneva, but it had been a simple task to keep them apart for all those years. Family gatherings were few when he was abroad so much and after he returned Geneva’s lack of interest in Lallybroch meant that he often attended things alone anyway. But it was different with Claire. He wanted so much for her to be accepted here. For her to feel at home. He had meant everything he had said in the car, he would turn his back on it all for her, but he wanted more than anything for her to have a place here, for Jenny to welcome her, for Lallybroch to embrace her.

“Jenny,” said Jamie slowly, drawing Claire to his side. “This is Claire.” He had no need to elaborate, just as Claire had heard all about Jenny and Ian, he had told Jenny about Claire. How could he not? When his heart and soul were so unexpectedly brought back to life. Jenny had expressed joy, that he had at last found someone, but he knew her well. She would want to see for herself. The two women looked at each other appraisingly and the moment seemed to stretch forever. Both women knew what the other meant to Jamie and were wary of a false move. The tension was broken as Jenny let out a sudden laugh and gathered Claire into an enthusiastic hug which Claire returned wholeheartedly. Jamie released the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, feeling a sudden lightness of being. 

“Claire and I will just take our stuff over to the apartment and then we’ll have some lunch, aye?” he raised his eyebrow questioningly at Jenny?

“Oh aye, lunch will be on the table at 1.30 sharp. Sharp!” she called after them with a laugh as Jamie led them down the hallway back to the front door. 

Jamie led her round the front of the main house. In the lobby a small group of tourists were examining a sabre mark in the panelling made by red coats after the ‘45. Leading Claire past them, he led them both through a door marked ‘Private’.

“Welcome to my humble abode” He added an elaborate bow to this statement and grinned at her. “This part of the house isn’t open to tourists and we keep it as apartments. Its where I live when I’m here at Lallybroch. It's just this room here, with a kitchen off to the side and then upstairs there’s a bedroom.” The rooms were large but it was clear why Jenny and her expanding family has chosen not to live in them. The voices of tourists in the main house echoed through the quiet. Despite the sturdy build of the house its eighteenth century acoustics left much to be desired.

Claire looked around smiling. “It’s perfect Jamie and I’m just so happy that you wanted to share this with me”

Jamie pulled her close and kissed her gently, first on the forehead, then on the nose and finally on the mouth. “You belong here, Mo Nighean donn, here with me.” He kissed her again brushing a wayward curl away from her face. “This afternoon, I’ll take ye round the grounds and tonight, well, tonight, I shall make love to you in the laird’s bedroom.” he kissed her deeper and she wrapped her arms around him. “But now, now Mo Graidgh, we had better go and have lunch because I know better than to keep my sister waiting”

The laughed and he took a step back from her. They looked each other fully in the eye for a moment. They kissed again and Jamie gave her backside a gentle squeeze. “Come on now, unless ye’ve a desperate desire to see me get a dressing down from my sister.”

The afternoon was just perfect. Jamie watched Claire through lunch. In part to make sure she was alright, but mostly from a simple desire to look at her. To see the way the sun shone through the window and caught in her hair, changing it from a deep brown to red and gold and silver. To see her profile as she laughed with Jenny, her strong jaw and the slope of her nose. To see her help wee Ian with his lunch and her laughing as he succeeded in getting more down himself than into his mouth. 

As dessert was being served he caught Jenny’s eye. She and Claire had seemed to be getting along, but he was still apprehensive. Jenny however, gave him a most uncharacteristic wink with a laugh before turning back to the conversation she was in with Claire about a book they had both recently read and, from what he could make out, enjoyed. 

He felt a nudge in his ribs which broke up his revery. He turned to see his brother in law had moved around the table. He grinned at him. “Jenny seems very taken with your Claire” he stated casually.   
“I know” replied Jamie running his hand through his hair in relief. “I was worried that maybe…” he tailed off.   
“Aye,” replied Ian, “I ken better than anyone how Jenny can be. But she knows how important the lass is to ye. In fact given the way you’ve spoken about her round here, I doubt there is a person between here and Glasgow that doesna know how soft you are on her”

Jamie felt his colour rise slightly and Ian laughed again. “Ah, dinna fash, Jamie lad. It's wonderful to see. Plus the fact is it seems Claire and Jenny share a particular passion for the same kind of smutty literature” He cast a glance over at Jenny and Claire who were now practically head to head with laughter.

“So what are your plans whilst you’re here?”   
“Well, I thought I’d take her round the farm and the visitors centre this afternoon, just to let her see the place and also give myself a chance to look the place over. I’ve neglected it a wee bit o’late” he admitted slightly sheepishly. Iam said nothing but made the scottish noise in the back of his throat. “Tomorrow, if the weather is fine I thought I’d take her hiking and then I guess on Tuesday I should probably do some work. Claire said she might take herself shopping into Inverness. We didna really get the chance whilst we were staying there.”

 

The rest of the afternoon was smooth sailing. Jamie, almost bursting with pride at both the exceptional woman in whose company he was and the chance to show off his beloved Lallybroch to her, took her round most of the main areas.   
“And this here, is the tea rooms, those are Jenny’s baby”  
“And this here is the gate to the main farm. Tourists don’t generally go in there but we have the community farm bit just down the valley so that people can see the animals and get an idea of the kind of work required in a Highland farm”

After an afternoon of walking, they sat under a tree not far from the house, enjoying the last rays of the evening sun and it shone through the branches. 

“Thank you, Jamie” said Claire, taking his hand in hers. “It was so wonderful to see your life’s work, your dream” her whiskey coloured eyes looked into his.

“It was my pleasure, Mo Nighean donn,” he answered softly. “Ye have no idea how much it means to me to bring ye here. To show you all this.” He stroked his thumb down her face.”I never thought I’d have someone I’d want to share this with, never thought that I could be so happy, so utterly content just sitting under a tree, looking at the house, watching the sun go down.”

“Me neither, Jamie.” Claire stopped and seemed to visibly gather her thoughts. She turned and faced him more fully. “I didn't know what to expect when I came here. I was so so afraid. Afraid your family wouldn’t like me, afraid you’d see me here and I wouldn’t fit, afraid that I’d come here and not feel like I fit.” She looked up at him imploring him to understand her mind. He nodded briefly and she continued. “But… but I think that I might? Does that make sense to you?” he nodded again and kissed her because he did not have the words to articulate his own feelings. She kissed him back pulling him close to her and he could feel the heat of her body pressed against him. He broke the kiss and stood.   
“Come Mo nighean donn, it’s time to go to bed.”  
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they walked back towards the house. He led her inside but instead of leading her towards the apartment he led her up the main staircase to the Laird’s room.

“Should we be in here?” Claire asked as he closed the door behind them.

“It's still my house, visiting hours are long since over and I want to make love to my woman in this room”

Claire’s eyes widened slightly as he approached her and putting a head to the back of her neck he pulled her close and kissed her. He felt her knees give a little and drew his other hand to the small of her back steadying her. Her own arms wound around his neck as she groaned into his lips. Jamie pulled her closer still, enjoying the friction of her pelvis against his. He walked her back towards the bed never taking his lips from hers. She pulled at his t-shirt getting her hands underneath. She ran her hand down his spine making him shudder. He felt her bump against the edge of the bed and laid her gently down on the counterpane.

“Claire, oh my Claire” he whispered in her ear. His arm reached down her body and slide her dress up her thigh on its return journey. She rocked her hips against his. He returned the pressure as she pulled his short up over his head. He felt the warm breeze from an open window play across his back. He was aware of every little thing. He had never brought a woman here before, had never even thought to, but for some reason it felt vital that he make love to Claire in this room, on this bed. In the room that represented who he was and where he came from. He shifted his weight back and pulled Claire into sitting position so that he could lift her dress up over her head. She looked so bonny sitting there on the bed, her hair a cloud around her face, her skin kissed golden by the rays of the setting sun. She reached out to him and unbuckled his belt and he let out a low hiss as she ran a finger along the edge of the waistband. She pushes them down over his hip and reached down and took his hardness into her hand.

“Someone likes the idea of doing it in the Laird’s room…” she let out a little giggle which was swallowed up by him kissing her thoroughly and lowering her back down onto the bed. She hadn’t been wearing a bra and her nipples were tight and hard under his touch. He bent his head and took one in his mouth, worrying it gently with his teeth. Her head dropped back and she let out a moan “Oh God, Jamie, don’t stop.”

He teased a trail to the other breast where he repeated his ministrations, his hand moving slowly down her body. He cupped her gently between the legs, feeling the warmth and wetness there. She jerked her hips towards him at her his touch and stroked one finger slowly up and down just teasing the spot where she was most sensitive. Her breath quickened and he could feel the muscles in her stomach and thighs tighten beneath him. Never ceasing his movements he slid his middle finger inside of her and she made a keening sound that seemed to go straight to his groin. She rocked her hips against his hand with more urgency, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He kissed her jaw and neck and she grabbed his hair, calling out his name urgently. She was clinging to him now, trying to pull herself closer to him as she neared her climax. With a long moan, her bag tenses and he felt her clench around his fingers. He kissed her face gently as she returned to earth.

“Jesus Christ, Jamie. Where on earth did you learn to do that” she murmured laughing, when finally she could speak again.

“It's only for you, Mo nighean donn” he replied smiling. “Only for you”

Claire reached up and pulled his mouth to hers, kissing him lightly at first and then with more urgency. She hooked her leg around her waist pulling her close to him, his hardness rubbing against the inside of her thigh. She flipped him onto his back and ran her tongue deliciously down the side on his neck and along his collarbone.He let out a little growl, pulling her onto him. For second neither of them moved as they savoured the feeling. She moved then, slowly at first, but in a building crescendo of want and need. She ran her hands along the planes of his chest, keeping him flat with her weight. Both were breathless, his hands were on her hips steadying her and pulling her closer to him. She leaned down to kiss him and he raised himself, first into sitting position and then onto his knees, Claire on his lap. His hands tangled in her hair and hers in his as they kissed and gasped and shared the same air. Jamie felt a tightening as he approached completion and tried to slow his pace. “No.” she murmured in his ear. “No my love, come to me, come with me” He felt her pulse around him and with a thrust and a moan he joined her.

They lay on the bed, arms and legs tangled, the moonlight which had replaced the last rays of the setting sun playing across the room. He stoked her hair, her arm , the soft skin of her legs. She ran her finger down his chest, making him shiver. Claire let out a contented sigh and Jamie smiled. As they drifted off, Jamie allowed himself to imagine. Claire, here in the Laird’s bedroom always. A crib in the corner, a ring on her finger. He and Claire walking hand in hand across the meadows, Claire in a white dress walking down the aisle of the chapel towards him. Jamie succumbed to sleep with one last thought echoing around his mind. “...til our lives will be done.”


	12. Home of the Heart

The rest of the weekend was blissfully uneventful. Jamie showed Claire every inch of the estate of which he was so rightfully proud. They strolled through valleys, stole kisses behind trees and out buildings and every night he laid her down on the laird’s bed and loved her.

All things must come to an end though and Jamie spent the last day catching up with Lallybroch business before they returned to Glasgow, reality, and in Claire’s case a week of double shifts. Claire opted against her original plan of shopping in Inverness, instead choosing to spend the day with Jenny and the children. Already there seemed to be a budding friendship between Claire and Jenny, which heartened Jamie no end. They were very different women, of that there could be no doubt, but at their core both had a strength and determination of purpose which drew them together. 

They spent the morning entertaining Jenny’s children, a trip to the estates soft play barn (“You have no idea how handy this is on wet days” Jenny had told her conspiratorially. “Even if it made no money I’d still think it was worth building”, followed by a walk up the meadows to check on Jenny’s pride and joy, her herd of imported Merino sheep. 

After lunch the children were dispatched to the kitchen to do some baking with Mrs Crook, the estate’s housekeeper and the Murray’s nanny, JoJo. Once safely distracted making fairy cakes and flapjack, Claire and Jenny had escaped to the tea rooms so that Claire might have the opportunity to sample Lallybroch’s famous afternoon tea.

As always the tea room was bustling, the cream tea, often booked out several weeks ahead, was the talk of the Highlands. Claire and Jenny seated themselves at a small table near the back and surveyed the room.

“Wow”, said Claire. “Jamie told me the afternoon tea was popular but I had no idea”  
“Aye” replied Jenny. “We have a good reputation for it. Everything is baked fresh, here at the farm, the jam made here, the cream comes from our own sheep. I’ve worked verra hard to put this place on the map” There was no denying the pride in her voice or the way her shoulders straightened slightly as she talked. They chatted amiably, schools, the dreadful Glasgow traffic, films they had seen. Jenny told some entertaining stories about her university life in Edinburgh, whilst Claire shared her own stories, omitting all but the most vague mentions of Frank. As the talked she became aware of one of the women working in the tea rooms. Probably in her late twenties, she had shoulder length blonde hair, deep blue eyes and a delicate complexion. She was also looking at Claire with unconcealed venom. 

“Um, Jenny?” she asked “Who is that and why is she staring at me like I broke into her house and stole her puppy?”  
Jenny looked up to see who Claire was talking about and let out a laugh. “Ah that would be Laoghaire”. Claire raised an eyebrow encouraging Jenny to elaborate on what she saw as a wholly unsatisfactory explanation. “She has a bit of an unrequited crush on Jamie, ye ken. Has for years. Jamie has never encouraged her even a wee bit, but that hasna really discouraged her much. Ye’ll notice Jamie avoids the tea rooms unless he really has to come here. That’s why.”  
“Oh.” Was Claire’s response, unable at that moment to come up with anything more.  
Jenny continued. “Laoghaire is a verra distant cousin on our mother’s side so we’ve always known her a small bit, though she’s a lot younger than us so we were never that close.She moved over this way about 10 years ago, got married to Simon McKimmie and lived at Balriggan. She’s two lassies, the eldest is the same age as Maggie and the younger one the same age as Wee Janet and Michael. We got to know each other quite well again doing the school run and what have ye. Anyway, when wee Joanie, the youngest, was hardly more than a baby, Simon was killed. He was trying to break up a bar fight in Inverness and got glassed. Bled out before the ambulance could arrive. It was very sad. Laoghaire was no much more than 21 at the time and Simon was a good man. Loved her and those girls. The whole thing was very sad. Everyone rallied round to try and help them, we’re a close knit community bein’ so far away from civilisation, “She chucked at this before continuing. “Our bit was giving her a job here in the tea rooms. The hours suit the girls school and it no bother in the school holidays to have them around the estate. And she’s verra good at it it too. When she’s no glaring over the milk steamer at you or simpering at my brother, she’s got the right personality and temperament for it. “

Claire nodded and glanced at the girl, who was glaring again. She smiled at her, very much moved by the tragic story she’d just heard. Laoghaire flared her nostrils and flounced away. Jenny laughed. “Dinna fash, Claire. Yon lassie has no chance. She never had much in the first place, but now you’re in the picture those have gone down to less than zero.”  
Claire tipped her head to the side in acknowledgement, but said nothing. She wasn’t the jealous type, nor was she insecure but after the drama with Geneva she wasn’t keen to once again find herself between Jamie and the amorous attentions of another.  
“Do you love him, Claire?” The question was asked outright, startling Claire out of her revery slightly.   
“Wah, what? Why do you ask?” The question had been unexpected and put Claire on the defensive slightly. 

“I ken he’s in love with you, Claire. I’ve never seen him the way he is with you. Never, and Jamie and I are close. I know him. And I know that he is completely and madly in love wi’ you Claire. I also ken its probably not my business and I shouldna ask, and don’t get me wrong I’d never interfere in his relationships. I never liked Geneva, but she was his choice so I never said a word. But I also never saw him like this. I’m so happy for him, but I’m also scared for him.” She looked at Claire intently.Claire returned the look. She took a deep breath.

“Yes. Yes, I love him.” she said quietly but with certainty. “I’m not a flighty young girl who gets carried away in the moment. I’m a grown woman, a surgeon, I have a career and a life outside of Jamie. I’m not with Jamie because I’m afraid to be alone, or I need a man to complete me or even because I’ve been swept off my feet. I’m with him because I love him. I want him. I want him in my life. I want to share what I have with him. I want him to share his life with me.” She gazed steadily at Jenny. Jenny nodded in a business like manner. “I just needed to check ye ken” A small smile played on her lips and was mirrored on Claire’s. “Yes,” she replied “I ken.”  
They both laughed. “Well then,” said Janet, “how about you let my brother drive that funny coloured car of yours back to Glasgow and we’ll have a bottle of Moet to go with our scones”

And so it was that Jamie loaded a slightly drunk Claire into the car for the drive back. Jenny had embraced them both with enthusiasm, whispering none too discreetly to Jamie how happy she was for him and how he shouldn’t “fuck it up, for fuck’s sake”

Claire dozed as the drove through the fading light, the rain starting to come down steadily. Jamie kept his eyes on the road but he could sense her there and just the knowledge of that made him smile. The trip had been a success. Of that he was sure. After Claire’s initial doubts she had taken to Lallybroch as if she had always belonged there. And he was sure that she did. He could feel the shape of the box in his jacket pocket, the true purpose of his afternoon’s endeavours. He jumped slightly as Claire spoke, he hadn’t noticed her stir.

“Sorry, Jamie. I didn’t mean to nod off. It’s just Jenny…” Jamie laughed and waved a hand. ‘  
“Aye, I know full well what Jenny’s like. And I wouldna mind of the two of you had spent the afternoon drinking the 18 year old whiskey and I had to listen to ye snore all the way back to Glasgow. I’m glad ye had a good time, Mo Neighean Donne. I’m glad ye and Jenny got along. You’re the two most important people in my life.”

“I had a wonderful time, Jamie. Not just with Jenny, but the whole trip. Inverness, Lallybroch, the kids, Jenny and Ian… you” She reached across and put her hand on his arm. With little warning, Jamie pulled abruptly into the side of the road and kissed her intensely, leaving them both a little breathless. “I’m sorry,” he said when they broke apart, looking slightly sheepish. “It just couldna wait all the way to Glasgow.”

Claire smiled at him and then kissed him again. When they broke apart they rested their foreheads against each other, just breathing each other in, sharing air. In the confines of the car in the gloaming light it was as if they were the only two people that existed. Claire reached out and kissed him lightly this time, running her fingers through his hair and down his neck. 

They kissed again, letting it go on and on. The windows of the car steamed up and they eventually broke apart some time later when the local constable, who had been alerted to the possibility of a stolen porsche parked on the Inverness to Glasgow road, tapped discreetly on the window and with many blushes suggested they move on.

“Let’s go home, Sassenach” he smirked

“I already am home” was Claire’s answer. And she was. They both were.


	13. To Comfort and to Keep

After their return from Lallybroch and the idyll and revelations it had brought, the return to Glasgow and reality seemed almost offensive. Claire was currently working double shifts at the hospital and given that she didn’t consider it worthwhile to drag herself home to sleep for 4 hours and then drag herself back, she was currently camped out in the on call room, returning home only every couple of days to run a load of washing. Jamie missed her desperately. He considered more than once going to the hospital to see her, but decided against it. Part of what he loved about her was her fierce independence and her ability to operative calmly and effectively in a crisis. Her strength amazed him. He glanced down at his desk at the photo that sat upon it. It was Claire standing under a tree near the main house. She was looking off to the distance and laughing, her head slightly turner, her hands clasped together in joy. It wasn’t the best picture he had of her, it had been taken by wee Jamie during a game of tag and as a result was slightly out of focus Jamie had chosen it though because it best encapsulated everything about her. Her joy of life, her sense of the ridiculous, that mad curly hair, her strength of character in her tall straight posture. He sighed. Only three more days. Three more days and he’d see her. She’d be on regular day shifts for the rest of the month, barring emergencies and they planned to spend time together. Jamie opened his drawer and pulled out the small square box he’d picked up at Lallybroch and placed it on the desk in front of him. He stared at it for a moment before putting it back in his drawer. No, it was too soon. No matter what the strength of feeling, no matter what it was between them, seven weeks was still only seven weeks. They weren’t kids, they’d both been married before and whilst he knew it would be different with Claire, whilst he longed more than anything else stand in front of their friends, family and God and declare his love for her, his brain urged caution. He sighed again, hitting a key on his computer to bring it out of power save mode. Three more days, that was all.

 

 

They’d agreed to meet at Claire’s. After two weeks of only fleeting visits home, she had wanted to be in her own space for a while. She pushed the door open and leaned heavily against it. She was bone tired. She’d knocked off at two and Jamie was driving back from Lallybroch and should be there about 6. She planned a long bath and a catnap between now then. Her stomach flipped slightly at the thought of Jamie. She’d missed him so much. After the intensity of their first few weeks together, nearly two weeks apart with only texts and phone calls had been hard and she felt his absence down to her soul. She loved her job and never normally minded the shifts or crazy hours, but she had struggled, especially in that lull in the middle of the second shift, when exhaustion was setting in and adrenaline hadn’t yet kicked in to counter it. The desire to find him and to curl up on his lap and sleep in his arms had been almost unbearable at times and more than once during her off duty hours she had been tempted to make the drive to his house and do just that. Coffee, she thought to herself. A quick coffee and then a bath. That would sort her out. She settled into an armchair with a long black and flicked on the TV for background noise.

 

 

Letting himself in with his key, Jamie found her slumped in the armchair, still dressed in her scrubs. An untouched coffee sat on the side table and the TV was showing Coronation Street. He ran his hands through her hair and she stirred slightly, moving toward his touch, but she did not wake. He smiled and gathered her up and carried her to bed and removing her socks and shoes, tucked her in.

 

 

Claire woke, in the darkness, not sure where she was. She always felt discombobulated when she came off doubles or night shifts. It was amazing how quickly you get used to snatched sleep on narrow on call room cots. Waking tucked into her own king size bed seemed strange. A slight movement next to her, made her jump. She turned to see red hair lying on the white pillow case. Jamie. She must have fallen asleep and been put to bed by him. She rose and went into the bathroom. She stripped off her scrubs and tossed them in the basket turning on the shower. Her watch showed 3.24am. Coming off doubles was a lot like having jet lag she reflected ruefully, but without the holiday to compensate. 

She sensed rather than heard Jamie enter the bathroom, just as she was washing her hair. She felt a rush of cool air as he opened the shower door and stepped in behind her. She could feel the heat of of him as he stood behind her. Then she felt his hands tangle in her hair as he took over, his fingers kneading and massaging her scalp as he worked in the shampoo. She felt herself relax into him as his hands worked, her eye closing. She reached back and stroked his arm and he dropped a kiss on her shoulder. It was a chaste, closed lipped kiss but it sent electricity racing through her. She whirled around, kissing him full on the mouth, her hands on his neck. He kissed her back, his own hands dropping from her hair and sliding down the length of her body causing her to arch against him. His response was a gratifying growl in the back of his throat as he grabbed her buttocks and pulled her hard against him. She could feel his hardness against her stomach and she ran her hands down the strong expanse of his back to mirror the hold. He growled again and broke the kiss. One hand came up to her head holding it as he stared at her with an intensity that turned her legs to jelly. He pulled her close to him then, murmuring in her ear. A mixture of English and Gaelic, which she could not fully understand but got the gist of. He had her pushed against the shower wall now, the water coming down hot and strong.

“Jamie,” she murmured against him. “Jamie, my love” Her hands moved round his body, cupping him. He gasped pushing himself towards the sensation. She wrapped her hand around his length and began to stroke slowly. He let out a whimper and his head fell forward, his forehead resting against hers.

“Jesus, Claire…” His eyes were scrunched shut as he fought the urge to be undone. “Claire…” Catching her by the wrist he stilled her hand and stood breathing heavily for a moment. He opened his eyes and looked at her, an unspoken question in them. She nodded shakily, kissing him again. He shifted slightly, lifting one of her legs whilst planting his own feet wide apart to balance them. Pushing her back against the wall for stability he lifted her and entered her. Both moaned at the feeling, neither moving as they sought to master themselves at the sensation. Claire recovered herself first, pushing her hips and pulling him deeper. He began to move, slowly and steadily. One hand on her thigh where it supported her crooked leg, the other at her waist. She clutched at him as each thrust brought her closer and close to the end. She focused only on the sensations, the water pouring over them, the heat of his hands on her flesh and his breath on the side of her face. Of him filling her and loving her, the exhaustion and frustrations and the loneliness of the past two weeks slipping away as they moved together. She felt his rhythm begin to falter as he felt his own orgasm build. Clutching him tighter still she urged him to it with her words and her body, as her own ripped through her. He let out a cry that turned into a whimper as he found his release. His arms going around her pulling her close to him as he fought to regain himself. Claire’s arms came up around him and they held it each other until the water began to turn cool.


	14. As it is now and ever shall be

Claire leaned against Jamie’s side as she read the Guardian on her tablet and sipped coffee. Jamie was sat with his back to the headboard, one hand holding a paperback book, the other gently cradling Claire. The sun streamed into the bedroom from where she had pulled the curtains open when she had gone downstairs to fetch the coffee and the half full press sat on a tray besides a small jug of cream (she refused to bring him sugar and he had been to lazy to go downstairs and fetch it himself). Claire let out a sigh of contentment causing him to smile and drop a kiss on the top of her curly head. Her hair smelled of last night’s shampoo. Reaching back but never losing focus on her news article she patted him fondly on the cheek. He took her hand and kissed the palm and she leaned back into him letting her head fall back onto his shoulder. He stroked her arm and she made another little sound of contentment. 

Content, yes, that was how he felt right now. Utterly at peace. They had made love into the breaking dawn before falling to sleep wrapped around each other. Awaking a few hours later, neither of them could bear to break the little bubble of bliss by getting up and starting the day. The silence stretched on, peaceful and companionable. Jamie broke it as he chuckled at something in his book, Claire shifted slightly to place her coffee cup on the tray. Outside they heard the sound of the neighbours dog barking and the voices of children gabbling excitedly as they walked down the street towards the park. It was his turn to let out a little sigh of happiness. 

“This is just wonderful, Jamie” Claire’s voice, soft and slightly wistful.

“Aye, Mo Nighean Donn, I wish I could start everyday wi you in my arms”

“You could you know” Her voice was low, not a whisper, but quiet. “You could move in here...with me” A little hint of uncertainty in her voice. “If you wanted…”

A pause, not to think, but to make sure the words he chose were the right ones.

“I could, Claire. If that’s what you want.”

“Is it what you want, Jamie?”

She was still nestled in the crook of his arm, her back to him. He shifted and turned her to face him.

“Claire…” her eyes were cast down and her gently raised her face so that their eyes met. “Claire, ye are the love of my life, you are the song that I sing in my showers every morning, even though I ken I have no voice for music, ye are the sun that shines on my days and gives them warmth and makes them live.” He faltered then, wondering if his sentiments, no matter how true, were too cliched. “I, I love ye Claire and the thought of waking up with you in this bed every morning for the rest of my life is something I verra much want to do”.

He kissed her then. Softly and gently. Her arms came up around him and she rested her head on his shoulder as he stroked her hair. The stayed like that for a while, neither of them able to find words which were adequate, connecting instead through the beating of their hearts, the sensation of their skin pressed together, the gently caressing hands of the other. 

She shifted again and sat back on her heels, smiling at him, a hint of humour in her eyes.

“Well, if you’re going to be moving in, now is probably a good time to tell you…” She laughed and the tip of her tongue poked out between her teeth in a way that made her look both full of mischief and indescribably desireable.

“And what’s that Mo Nighean?” He asked, raising his eyebrow slightly at her.

“That” she pointed to where Jamie sat. “Is my side of the bed.”


	15. 15. Whispers in the Dark

15: Whispers in the darkness

Six months. Six months since she came and breathed the life to him he hadn’t even realised he had been missing. Three months. Three months since they decided to move in together and entwine their lives. He could see her now, sitting on the patio bundled up in a quilted jacket, gin and tonic in her gloved hand. The sight makes him smile. Even in the sub zero temperatures that are January in Scotland she insists on this. Her little nightly habit. She sits on the deck, reads poetry and drinks her gin and tonic. He never interrupts. Orphaned young, with little by way of family, she is by nature a solitary creature. Whilst he does not always understand her desire for solitude, growing up as he did on farm surrounded by family and friends, he respects it. It’s such a small thing, her time in her own head. 

But sometimes, he wonders what she is thinking. Whilst he’s sure her feelings towards him have not changed, he has noticed a sadness in her sometimes. A wistfulness, a small sigh that only someone paying as close attention as he, would even notice. It began in October, her birthday. Jenny had thrown her a huge party at Lallybroch and they had invited all their Glasgow friends up for the weekend. It was uproarious and hilarious and as a result very few guests were in a position to leave until quite late on Sunday after lie ins, fry ups and in the case of poor little Mary Hawkins, the obtaining of a number of plastic bags for the journey home. Claire had enjoyed it as much as anyone. But afterwards, when everyone had left and it was just family sitting down to Sunday dinner, the fire in the grate, the children squabbling as they sat. He had noticed it then. That little chink in her sunny armour, that slight droop in her mouth when she thought no one was paying attention. At the time it had not alarmed him, he put it down to hangover and tiredness, but as the weeks moved on and her time outside had taken on a different hue. Whereas before it had been about release, about a busy mind letting go, now it seemed an act of melancholy. A deliberate distancing. And it scared him. He didn’t think he was the cause of her sadness, beyond these brief moments their relationships seemed to get better with every passing day, as their collection of shared moments came together and created a life that was shared, but there is still fear. Fear that he cannot reach her pain and soothe it, fear that this part of her he does not know might grow into something more, and sadness. Sadness that whatever it is she cannot not share. That she cannot reach out to him. 

He watches as she stands and turns towards the door. He can see her rearrange her face in the half light which spills out of the french doors before she steps into the room. She heads across the living room towards the kitchen. He steels himself a moment and follows. He stands behind her as she rinses her glass and he can see that her shoulders are set and tense.   
‘Mo Nighean Donne’ he calls to her softly, his voice barely a whisper. ‘Will ye not tell me what’s wrong? Because whilst I’ve not known you long, I ken you well. You’ve not been yourself a while now. Will ye not let me help you?’ His voice broke slightly and he heard her breath hitch before she turned to him. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears and he moved towards her without a thought.   
‘No, Jamie. Please’ she held out her hand to ward him off and he took a step back like he had been slapped. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, never before had she physically shied from him. ‘Jamie’ She said again, but she had dropped her hand and took a step towards him. “I, I…’ she stopped and he could see her turmoil as the emotions she had never been able to keep hidden danced across her face.  
‘Speak to me, Claire, tell me’ He heard the pleading in his voice and didn’t care. He would beg on hands and knees for Claire, to heal her, to heal them. 

She took a deep breath as she attempted to physically collect herself. She closed her eyes for a moment, before raising her head and looking Jamie directly in the eye.

‘Its children, Jamie’ His confusion showed on his face and she continued. ‘I know you want them, have always wanted them. That your dream is the kitchen at Lallybroch, filled with little red headed children. And I want that too. For you, for me. For us.’ She trailed off, the moment of joy that had infused her face so briefly as she described their children fading again into resignation. ‘But I don’t think I can give them to you, Jamie. I tried for years with Frank and it only happened once for us. And even then, it was over in a matter of weeks.’ Her voice was at once both bitter and heartbroken at this, and a single tear rolled down her face. ‘And I was young then’ she continued, oblivious to tears that were now spilling down her face with abundance. ‘I’m 39, Jamie. We’ve never actively tried for baby, but we’ve never tried not to either. And nothing.’ The tears were falling harder now and her words spilling out between sobs. ‘And I am so selfish, Jamie. So fucking selfish. I know what I should do. I should let you go. I should let you find someone, someone who can give you what you want, what you deserve to have. But I can’t bring myself to. The thought of being without you.. When I think about it it's like a punch in the gut. I feel like I can’t breathe. I know, it's what I should do but I can’t do it. I’m sorry, Jamie. I am so sorry’

He caught her just as her knees went from under her and they both dropped to their knees. She was crying uncontrollably now, her face red and blotchy, the front of her shirt wet with her own tears. He had been silent, listening up to that point. Desperate to hear her, to understand her, to let her speak. But now the damn burst and he was crying too, his face buried in her hair, his arms holding her so tightly there was not a hint of space between them. Her arms came up around his neck as she clung to him, her face buried in his neck, sobbing and apologising over and over.

After a long time, he had no concept of how much, of how long they had sat there weeping on the kitchen floor, he loosened his hold on her, holding her away from him slightly so he could see her face. She hung her head so that her hair hung down hiding her from him.  
‘Look at me, Mo Nighean Donne. Claire. My love, my life’ He spoke quietly, his hand lifting her chin. He ran a thumb across a cheek and she took a wobbly breath.

‘Claire, yes, yes. I do want those things. I want a kitchen full of bairns, I want to go to sports day, and visit Santa and all of the other stuff. But I want you more. What I said to ye, the first time we went to Lallybroch. I meant it.’ He pulled her to him and kissed her urgently before releasing her and speaking again. ‘I would leave behind everything for you, and if being with you means I never have children, then I will still choose you. You are the breath of my body Mo Nighean Donne, the joy in my heart. The thought of losing you…’ He brought his forehead to hers, his hand on the back of her head. ‘That would be more than I could ever bear’

Her hands were on his face now has she searched it desperately. ‘But Jamie. I can’t ask that sacrifice of you.’   
‘You ask nothing of me, Claire. I give it freely. I am yours. I belong to you and you alone. But, Sassenach, why did you no talk to me about this sooner? Why did you carry this alone?’ 

‘Because I didn’t want to have to make you choose, because I didn’t want to lose you, because I was afraid you would leave me, because I was afraid you would stay but resent me.’

He pulled her to him again and kissed her. His heart sore with her pain. He stood finally pulling her to her feet. 

‘Tomorrow, Claire, we will talk about this. Our options, whether we want to put ourselves through them. But right now please know this above all else. You are enough for me. You will always be enough for me. And I can only hope to be the same for you.’

She kissed him then and he knew her heart. There would be difficult conversations to be had, difficult choices to be made, but he knew they would be making them together.

The next night they sat on the deck together, his arms wrapped firmly around her as they whispered together in the dark.


End file.
